Fused: Lost in Oblivion 4.5

by Cari Quinn

  Too bad neither of those were what sustained Nick in any sort of fashion.

  Nick went through the usual pat-down at the door of Simon’s building. Oh, it wasn’t an actual frisk, but it might as well have been. The older gentleman who was often guarding the door knew Nick by now. He just didn’t seem to care. Every time it was as if he’d developed amnesia.

  “State your business with Mr. Kagan,” he said in his clipped, faintly British voice.

  I want to kick his ass. But Nick didn’t say that. Instead, he smiled faintly. “We have a date to count our millions while watching a porno.”

  The older man barely blinked. Nick’s answers always ranged from vague to ridiculous to downright rude, depending on his mood. Nothing much fazed the guy. He simply waved Nick toward the elevator that required a key code to access.

  A moment later, he was on Simon’s floor and punching in yet another key code to enter his apartment. He walked in to total silence. No voices, no music, no sounds from the TV.

  A quick glance at his watch told him it wasn’t that late by Simon standards. Barely past midnight. Maybe Simon and Margo were licking their wounds by licking…other things.

  But the snark didn’t even amuse him long enough to make him smirk. Because even Simon had someone by his side, his not-quite-a wife, Margo. Still a lot closer to a commitment than Nick had ever had. Probably ever would.

  No one in his band was alone but him.

  “You shouldn’t have come.”

  He blinked at Margo’s soft voice, floating out of the near darkness. Only sconces high on the walls offered off soft light. He shifted, following her voice to where she sat on a windowseat in a nook off the dining room. He’d never noticed the padded seat before, but Margo was curled up on it, her long, bare legs drawn up to her chest and a glass of wine in her hand. She wore something silky and short, but she might as well have been in sweats for all he noticed.

  What he did notice was the shimmer of wetness on her cheek, highlighted by a shaft of moonlight. Then he tilted his head and she looked perfectly composed.

  Margo was like Lila that way. They rarely became flustered, choosing to retreat behind a chilly mask of indifference before they’d ever allow someone to see a glimmer of real emotion. Margo had changed a bit in recent months. Simon’s doing, no doubt. Breaking down her walls or some shit, because Simon certainly had no trouble emoting when required. But tonight she’d gone back behind her fortress, and if anyone could lure her out, it sure as hell wasn’t Nick.

  She hated him too. Or if not hated, didn’t like. Perhaps some days that feeling elevated to mild distaste.

  Tonight wasn’t one of them.

  “You blame me too.” His voice came out sharper than he’d intended, and she glanced at him in surprise. “Somehow you think what happened tonight with Simon was my fault. Let me guess. All of it is. I probably sneaked into his bedroom and sliced open his vocal cords when he was asleep too, right?”

  She tipped back her head, her long, pale neck illuminated in white light from the window. “It would be easier if I could blame you.”

  “You can. Everyone else is.” Nick lifted his arms and held them out at his sides. “Free shot. Go ahead and take it.”

  “This isn’t about you, Nick.”

  It wasn’t her words but the utter fatigue in her voice that had him crossing the room to sit beside her. He didn’t gaze out the window as she did. The beach and the lights of LA in the distance didn’t interest him now.

  “What happened?”

  She pressed her cheek to the glass. “He’s still healing.”

  “Bullshit. There was more there than that. He was on for the entire show—”

  “His throat bothers him sometimes. It’s to be expected. You all keep pushing him.”

  “Yeah, so I’ve heard. I always pushed him. He always pushed me. We’re best friends, not roommates in a rubber room. We used to bloody each other’s mouths and give each other black eyes on a regular basis. I cracked one of his ribs once, and he sprained my little pinkie so badly that it still looks cockeyed.” He held out his left hand for Margo’s inspection, but she never looked away from the glass. “Do you honestly think he can’t take a nudge from me now and then?”

  “It’s not what I think he can take. It’s what’s not good for him. He’s been under so much pressure.”

  Nick didn’t mean to laugh. Truly didn’t mean to. But the events of the night stacked up end to end like dominos and it was either laugh or put his fist through Simon’s way too fucking expensive wall.

  And yeah, he did stuff like that. Because he was an uncivilized bastard who hadn’t been through therapy and thought Zen was the feeling that you got from tossing out a magazine with Bieber on the cover.

  “Oh, right, Simon’s under pressure. Last I checked, he has a fallback career unlike the rest of us.”

  “You’re not hurting for money. Don’t try to make it about that. And the others have fallbacks too. Deacon’s been producing, Gray’s writing for other bands. Jazz is writing with him now too. I have the symphony…” She trailed off.

  “You’re right. Thanks for reminding me I’m the only one who’s fucked that way too.”

  Naturally, Margo chose that moment to tune fully into the conversation. “What do you mean too? What other way are you fucked?”

  “Actually, pretty sure I’ve seen my last fucking for a good long while.”

  “You are so insanely crude. Why am I even sitting here talking to you?”

  He pretended to think about her question. “Because I have the key code to your apartment and you don’t own a firearm?”

  She surprised him by laughing. She wiped her eyes and sighed, leaning her head back against the window casing. “I needed that. Sorely. So thank you.”

  “I could use a laugh or two as well.” He rubbed his gritty eyes and tried like hell to keep his face impassive. “Not sure that’s going to happen either.”

  “What happened?”

  “I think you know what happened. Epic drama with your sort-of husband, lots of photos and video taken, a metric ton of gossip—”

  “Not what I mean, and you know it.” She leaned forward and shocked the hell out of him by placing her hand on his arm. “Did something happen with Lila?”

  He appreciated her attempt at comfort, but he didn’t want it. The last thing he wanted was any kind of pity.

  It was bad enough he was pitying himself pretty fucking hard tonight.

  After gently shaking her off, he linked his hands behind his neck and stared straight ahead at the sculpture of entwined naked people in the center of the dining room table. It was faintly ridiculous and practically screamed Simon’s taste. He had more money than actual artistic sense and bought some crazy shit.

  And pondering Simon’s crappy eye was a lot more palatable than figuring out how to answer Margo. Christ, he didn’t want to say it aloud. Almost as much as he didn’t want to believe it was true.

  “She dumped me. So yeah, I guess you could say something happened.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  It was his turn to laugh, though the sound bordered on a rattle in his chest. “You never thought I was good enough for her in the first place.”

  “Did you think I was good enough for Simon?”

  “No.” He didn’t even hesitate. “I thought you were way too good for him, which meant you didn’t suit in any possible way.”

  She laughed again, softer now. “Maybe it was the same for me with you and Lila. She’s been hurt.”

  Almost without noticing, he balled his hands into fists that he propped against his knees. “I know. I could kill that bastard for all he’s done, and I don’t even know the half. But Jesus, I’m not like him. I would never hurt her.”

  “Does she know that?”

  “How do you propose I convince her? Hire a skywriter, maybe? Fall down on my knees and beg her to give me a chance?” He blew out a frustrated breath and scrubbed his arm over his face. His hair was
still sticking in drying clumps to his forehead. He needed a shower and ten hours of unconsciousness.

  If he could even manage to close his eyes.

  “I almost tried that actually,” he continued quietly. “I would’ve begged if I thought it would make one bit of difference. She closed me out. I don’t know what happened between practice this afternoon and tonight, but something did. Maybe Donovan got to her, or that asshole she’s married to put the squeeze on her, but she did a one-eighty.”

  “She’s frightened, Nick. She’s not even divorced yet, and she never expected this—”

  “Do you think I did? I thought I had the fucking hots for her. Not this. I never for a second believed I could feel like this—” Hearing himself, he ground his teeth together and jerked to his feet. He stalked to the table and picked up the statue made out of pale green marble and hefted the thing, almost letting out a groan. “Goddamn, this shit weighs a ton.”

  “Cost it too,” Margo said drily.

  “You need to put a lock on his credit card. He does bad things with it.”

  She swung her legs off the windowseat. “How do you know I didn’t buy it?”

  “She’s wearing pasties,” Nick muttered, tracing the statue with a fingertip. “For fuck’s sake, he didn’t even get a proper nude statue.” He shook his head and set the statue down. “And no, you did not buy it. You actually have taste. He’s a poor kid gone wild.”

  “Maybe he was once, but he’s not poor anymore. Neither are you.” Margo came up to stand beside him and wrapped her hands around the back of one of the ornate cane chairs at the table. “He also figured out how to man up and do the big gesture to win the girl. You should do the same thing.”

  “I can’t win someone who doesn’t want to be won. And who’s also fucking still married. I’ve been the second fiddle position before, and I got out of that shit. Now you’re telling me I should campaign for the role too?”

  “I’m telling you that her last name doesn’t have a thing to do with who holds her heart.”

  He couldn’t deal with that tonight. Even a masochist could only face rejection so many times.

  Especially since he had another form of rejection on tap.

  Nick braced his fists on the edge of the table. “Where is he?”

  “Sleeping now, probably. He had a rough night.” Margo pushed a hand through her hair, and the big ring his best friend had given her caught the meager light and turned it into a goddamn rainbow. That was some fucking sparkler.

  Was that what he was supposed to do to keep Lila in his life? Buy her some gigantic rock, pledge all eternity and promise to go down on her every day before breakfast, lunch and dinner?

  At least one of those things he could promise without hesitation.

  “I’d like to talk to him.”

  “It’s not a good idea. Trust me on that,” Margo said, raising her voice over his objections. “We got into it pretty good on the way back from the show. Whatever he’s going through, there’s no reason for him to destroy equipment and pitch a mantrum like that, especially when he knew very well how important this show was for everyone.”

  “What he’s going through? He’s just dealing with some vocal issues. It happens. He’s always been flawless on stage, and now he’s struggling a little and can’t deal. Simon’s had it too easy.”

  “As easy as you’ve had it?”

  Nick fell silent.

  “He hasn’t had it easy, he just hides how he’s feeling. You know, like a man. Though I’m sure you think you put everything on your sleeve, insulting people doesn’t count as deep emotional involvement.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “My point exactly.” She sighed and pressed her fingers into her eyes. “Then he started hearing chatter about Molly taking over for him. How did that happen?”

  “Ask your BFF,” Nick suggested. “She and Donovan were the ones who pushed that little idea.”

  “And it turns out they were right, weren’t they? She nailed it. Along with all the tweets expressing worry for Simon, social media was blowing up with people going crazy over that ‘incredible new singer’ who took over for him at the show.” Margo withdrew her phone from the pocket of her silky sleep shorts and tapped her thumbnail against the screen. “I read through some of it for a while until I couldn’t anymore. He was too mad and I didn’t want to give him a reason to keep ranting.”

  Nick frowned. “He’s not a ranter. That’s me. He goes mute and takes off if his charm can’t get him through.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe your influence rubbed off, because he was ranting tonight.” She dumped her phone back into her pocket. “She’s really good, isn’t she? Molly. She’s pretty like Jazz, but she’s not the type to stay behind a drum kit. She’s ready for prime time.”

  “She looks nothing like Jazz.”

  “Maybe not, but she’s not exactly hard on the eyes. And she has presence. I could see that even on the grainy clip I found on—”

  “Seriously, Margo, are you trying to edge your man out of the band? Because I don’t think Molly McIntire needs anyone else on her side tonight. She was already getting all the offers she could handle when I booked the fuck out of there.”

  “I’m not edging anyone. Everyone knows Simon is the core of Oblivion.”

  “Does he?” Nick tossed back. “Because he seemed damn determined to break out of that role tonight.”

  It was Margo’s turn to remain quiet.

  “Yes, Molly’s good. I play with her every damn night at the house. She’s got chops on the guitar, and she can sing. But she’s not Simon. And I’m not helping anyone else get a toehold on kicking him out of the band he helped to form.” He tucked his fists under his arms and said the words he’d never imagined he would say. “If he goes, I go too.”

  Margo studied him without speaking for a long moment. “You really love him.”

  “He’s my brother,” Nick said simply. “Even when I didn’t have a family, I had him. I won’t forget that.”

  Margo nodded. “He loves you too. Just the same way.”

  Nick snorted. “Not sure if you heard what he said to me on stage tonight, but it sure as fuck didn’t sound like love.”

  “No, it sounded like he’s drowning, and someone needs to throw him a life preserver.” Margo glanced away before returning her gaze squarely to Nick. “But that doesn’t mean you should blame Molly. She loves music too. That was as obvious as the fact that she knew what she was doing. And she’ll only get better.” Shaking her head, she let out a little laugh. “God, if Juliet sees tonight’s show, she’ll want to know how she can get in on the action too.”

  “Let me guess. Is she another wunderkind musical prodigy? They seem to come in pairs these days.”

  “You could say that.” She straightened one of the lacy placemats at the table. “She was always the gifted one at music. I mean, I do okay. But I had the violin and then later, the cello and pretty much stayed in my lane. Juliet was into everything. She played the flute in school, then the French horn and guitar. She also did a bit with the drums before drifting toward playing bass. She’s crazy talented.”

  “Sounds like she can’t make up her mind.”

  “She can’t. That’s the only reason she hasn’t gotten a steady gig yet. She’s not like you or Gray, or even Jazz. Jazz plays everything too, but once she tried the drums, they were her instrument. Juliet has no focus. She can master anything she puts her mind to, but the problem is her mind is everywhere.” She winced. “She also likes boys a little too much.”

  “The downfall of many a talented artist.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s not a downfall for her. Yet. She’s traveling around San Fran right now with some friends she picked up God knows where, and I just know I’m going to get a phone call.”

  “She sings too?”

  “She does everything.”

  “We still talking about sex too?” He laughed when Margo jammed her knuckles into his hip. “Sorry, couldn’t resist. Look,
I’m not begrudging that Molly has talent. It’s not that shocking, considering. My sister used to kill me on the strings. If she hadn’t decided she liked toking better than playing, she might be the one in Oblivion and I’d be in a corner somewhere, scribbling shit lyrics about my existential angst. But I’m more concerned about Simon right now. If I could just talk to him—”

  “He’s not in a place to hear you. Not you, and not me.” She toyed with her big ring then let her hand drop. “He asked me for space, and I gave it to him because words weren’t helping. Whatever is going on, we need to let him come to us.”

  “I’m going to call tomorrow.”

  She tipped her head back and chuckled. “Are you sure your middle name isn’t pit bull?”

  “He accused me of pushing him too much. So did you. Well, guess I gotta live up to the mantle.” He stunned himself by leaning forward to kiss her cheek. “Thank you for taking care of him. I’m glad he has you.”

  He was, he realized. Sure, there was some bitterness that Simon had grabbed the brass ring when it came to relationships while he was still getting strangled by his hula hoop. But he was happy for his buddy too.

  When it came right down to it, neither one of them had come up with anything. And Simon deserved someone in his corner just like anyone else did.

  Even you too?

  “I…thank you.” Margo blinked, clearly taken aback. “Um, I’m glad he has you too.”

  “No, you’re not.” It was easier for Nick to laugh than he expected, and for once, it was genuine. “But maybe you will be, someday. I gotta earn that, right?” He saluted her and backed away, giving himself one extra moment to enjoy the pure astonishment on her face.

  Then he let himself out and went down the street to buy the biggest fucking carton of cigs he could find.

  4

  Lila pulled into her underground parking garage, turned off her car and dropped her forehead to the steering wheel.

  She had officially reached the end of her very short rope.

  It was Friday night, four days after the show from hell. The latest show from hell, since there had been a few lately. All had been quiet on the husband front, and the appointment she’d had with the lawyers had gone over well with no mention of incriminating pictures.